


June Unexpectedly Arises

by Zaniida



Series: Monthly Prompts for 2018 [6]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, Fear, Gen, Monthly Challenges, My Bread and Butter (slow knock-out), Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nostalgia, Possibly Dark John, Struggling Against the Inevitable, Trust, elbows-friendly, prompts, why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 21:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaniida/pseuds/Zaniida
Summary: The Prompt:After two years, Harold has gotten used to trusting John in a way he never would have expected.  But that trust may have just been his undoing.





	June Unexpectedly Arises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lisagarland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisagarland/gifts).



> We're back to full-length prompts! despite me being in the middle of writing a giant assignment fic right now. I managed a good one, and my beta reader is already begging me to write more, to explain what happened or something. Guess we'll see how many people sign on to write possibilities!
> 
> Gifted to Lisagarland, who could use a little pick-me-up. And I know she loves Dark John, which is certainly one possible reading of this prompt!

Back in 2010, in less than twenty-four hours, you lost your best friend, your fiancée, your health, your worldview, and your entire way of life.

In the months that followed, you watched dozens of innocent people die -- you would say ‘countless,’ but you know the count by heart. All the information and resources you’d had at your disposal couldn’t stop the count from increasing, day by day.

Trying to solve the problem, you’d accepted the risk of hiring Dillinger… and then, before the year was out, you’d been betrayed by him, seen him executed… buried his body with your own cold and shaking hands.

As you break bread with John, you reflect on the difference that a couple of years can make. In the past months you’ve seen only a handful of innocent people die on your watch -- unavoidable tragedies that still weigh on you, but that you can’t chalk up to any failure on the part of either one of you. You’ve been stepping up your game, writing new algorithms to make the research process more efficient, to cut down on the time it takes to give Reese the info he needs. Reese, in turn, has proven nothing short of miraculous in his quest to prove himself to you.

Only a few weeks ago, he brought you a newspaper just to point out that while the rate of violent crime in New York City has remained fairly steady ( _with a surprisingly high rate of knee injuries_ , the article _didn’t_ say), the rate of murder has hit a five-year low. Given John’s success at (mostly) kicking his alcohol habit, you felt comfortable celebrating with champagne.

And tonight, after a long and strenuous day, after the successful close of not one but three cases that ended up tied together in an unexpected way, you’re sharing dinner at the library, quietly enjoying each other’s company. Gyros, with _tzatziki_ sauce -- a delightful spiced yogurt with cucumber. Fries with feta cheese all over them, one of the few dishes that you don’t mind being a little messy with. And, of course, a cup of your Sencha Green to close the day.

The conversation has dwindled as you work on refueling. As you finish the gyros, you meet John’s gaze and match his sleepy smile; it’s probably past time for you to turn in. Normally, despite being an early riser, you’d stay up past midnight working on code or running upkeep on your various aliases, but tonight--

\--has it really been that tiring of a day? More complicated, certainly, with a bit more running around at the last minute, but you’ve come back from similar missions all keyed up and ready to get a little more work done. You’re not feeling too bad; your back is a little sore, but, otherwise, you’re no worse than your normal level of chronic discomfort. And even that has kind of faded beneath this odd contentment that is fuzzing at your brain.

When you pick up your tea for another sip, your hand pauses in mid-air, and starts to tremble. You can feel -- there’s a weakness there, a lack of energy as your body starts to shut down, and you -- you _know_ this feeling, you’ve been overcome by it before, not once but twice. Both were faster than this, but… it’s the same process, the same…

You set the tea down again, your head reeling as you try to work it out. Nobody could have drugged the food; both of you make it a point to never develop a routine when it comes to ordering food, and John picked up the food himself, so it isn’t the delivery boy. So it could be… gas, somebody in the library -- is John feeling the same, you have to, to get out -- you open your mouth to warn John--

But then you look at John watching you, and your stomach sinks.

It’s the tea, isn’t it? It’s the same as with Dillinger. You let your guard down and accepted a treat from the hand of someone you thought you could trust, and now--

Feeling sick, you stagger to your feet, part of you knowing it’s useless at this point, but the other part just wanting to put as much distance between you and Reese as possible, to get away--

\--the stairs are, they’re so far from the table, they’re--

\--you stumble, and catch yourself against the bookshelf, and find that it’s, it’s hard to keep moving your feet forward, to--

\--and as the world is tilting and you’re tumbling toward the floor you fall into strong arms, holding you up, keeping you from getting hurt. Dillinger just, he just let you fall, he didn’t care, but Reese… he’s holding you now, and you struggle in his arms, weakly trying to get away, just-- just let go--

As the darkness is folding in around you like a blanket, you look up into his eyes (so close, too close) and try to give voice to a single word:

“Why?”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Alternate Prompt:** For one, you could write a completely different setup where it appears that John is betraying Harold (he may or may not be). Where Harold has to come to grips with John being less trustworthy than he expected.
> 
> Other than that, try a ticking clock. Not a deadline or a countdown to doom (though hey, if you want to write that sort of thing, I'd probably still accept it), but just the notion of time inexorably passing away. Or, on the flip side, not going fast enough. Bonus points if you throw in a reference to _The Phantom Tollbooth_.
> 
> * * * * *
> 
> [April's Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14169414) has been closed; it's been two months, and there were three fills, one coming in on the very last possible day! The three who joined in were **Lisagarland** , **talkingtothesky** , and **Fringuello** , all very interesting.
> 
> Fringuello even took on the extra challenge of making a fic that can be read backwards as well as forwards, so she gets to choose the tone of my follow-up (assuming I eventually get to it! I have been procrastinating way too much on the little projects while trying to finish some larger projects).
> 
> [May's Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14508981) \-- another single-line prompt, this time about a routine or habit getting disrupted -- remains open, with no fills so far.
> 
> [March's Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836777) \-- the one where Carter's been dosed with a drug that makes her savage, and she might kill Finch -- will remain open for at least another month. I'm still hoping at least one person takes that challenge in hand.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Things Have Changed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15120374) by [oddgit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddgit/pseuds/oddgit)
  * [Tea and Absolution](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852732) by [PreachingtotheQuire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreachingtotheQuire/pseuds/PreachingtotheQuire)




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